Tribeca Film Festival 2013

A man (Mohammad Rabbanipour) who lives in a rectangular room wallpapered in aluminum foil gets dressed in an aluminum foil jumpsuit before he begins his day. He hops on a motorbike and heads towards the city. Along the way, the man rides his bike through a long tunnel. This is the first hint of writer-director Vahid Vakilifar’s fondness for the journey, as a majority of this nearly silent film focuses on the man’s passage from point “A” to point “B”; whether it be a road, hallway, staircase or simulated mine shaft rollercoaster ride, Vakilifar allows these extended scenes to play out in real-time. If there is a reason — beyond the sheer absurdity of the unbridled mundanity — it probably has something to do with the passing of time. The most pure example of “slow cinema” that I can think of, we connect with the man and his world by experiencing the passage of time with him, in his terms.

The world in which the man exists is a not-so-distant future (?) version of Tehran. Electromagnetic fields are powerful enough to raise the hypersensitive man’s body temperature, hence his fashionable affinity for aluminum foil. The man appears to work as a pest control specialist, though he earns some extra money by allowing people to throw things at his bucket-clad head. Don’t ask me. All I know is that I am totally transfixed by Taboor. Now, if only I could locate my aluminum jumpsuit…